An Adventure in Time and Serial Killers
by tomboytimelord
Summary: What if you were offered to solve the biggest crime of the 19th century? With the help of The Doctor, Sherlock faces his biggest case to solve in his consulting detective career yet...


I've been writing this for a little while, despite saying that I will never write ever again! Rule one: The Doctor lies.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy :D

"John, where are we?" John shook his head, groaned, and looked at his watch. "Whitechapel, 1888." Sherlock jumped up, his curly hair ruffled and his scarf untied. "John, this is Jack the Ripper territory. We are going to solve the biggest crime of the 19th century!" John sighed. "Still can't believe we're here..."

It was just another day in Baker Street. The sun was shining in the windows and Mrs Hudson was still complaining about the fine concerning her disposing fingers, as well as the dented bins outside. "It's not my fault that they became dented, and that the council doesn't offer a body part disposal service." Sherlock muttered while reading the morning's newspaper. Suddenly, his phone bleeped. John grabbed Sherlock's phone one night and changed the ringtone back to the standard Blackberry text tone, making Mrs Hudson a lot happier.

"Long time no see! In my case, it literally is!"

-Dr.

Sherlock smiled and replied.

"Let me guess, you have a new intergalactic case for me?"

-SH

"Not quite. I'll be round in about five minutes"

-Dr.

It was at that moment that The Doctor burst through the door. "Wasn't really five minutes." Sherlock grinned and stood up. "When you are a lord of time, Sherlock, you just make rough estimations as to when you arrive. Be it late, or a few centuries early!" He grinned back and flopped onto an armchair. "So, how's things? I see you have a new laptop." Sherlock sighed and walked towards the kettle. "Boring. Cases are boring. Nobody has any good cases nowadays- except for you, I presume? It may not be Intergalatic but I'm pretty sure it's a case. Probably won't beat the last case I worked on where you were being charged by the Shadow Proclamation and nearly sentenced to , and the laptop is not mine, it's John's." The Doctor shrugged. "That-That was a thing. Besides, they couldn't kill me anyway...No, I have something much better!" Sherlock handed The Doctor a cup of tea and continued "You know what's always intrigued me? When I first learnt of Earth, I was taught of significant events- now, I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but-" He chuckled at his joke for a second "There are some very interesting events in the Victorian times- for example, in the year 1888, there was a case of-" "-Jack the Ripper. Are you suggesting that I solve this case?" Sherlock raised his eyebrow.

"No, I just found a letter on your doormat and I'd recognise the stamps anywhere. I'm a bit of a stamp collector, you see." The Doctor smiled, and handed Sherlock the letter. Sherlock took the letter, a little confused. "I don't understand, what has Jack the Ripper got to do with this letter?" The Doctor shrugged. "Who else would write to you if they didn't want you to solve a crime? They obviously realised that you can time-travel. Sorry, did you say that that's John's laptop? As in the Dr John Watson's laptop?" Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes it is but why would somebody send me a letter in the past, to solve a crime in the past? It's gone, if I solved it, nobody would believe me. But oh!" Sherlock grinned again. "The thrill of the past chase! The fun that we can have!" Sherlock grabbed his magnifying glass and twirled it in his hands, his note in the other hand. He looked at the note through the magnifying glass, the edges were stained yellow, the damp from the doormat had started to seep through the letter, showed that it had been on the doormat for at least a few hours. Most of the ink had washed away due to the rain, but the letter didn't seem to be old enough to be written in 1888 and kept since then, despite the stamps. "Doctor, are there any other people who have access to time travel? This could have been written in 1888, but it certainly wasn't kept then. This has travelled forward in time." The Doctor pulled a face. "Oh right, sorry! The letter was on your doormat...in 1888. It's a long story, I'm a bit of a fan of your blog" The Doctor smiled awkwardly. Sherlock sighed, and started to open the letter "Fangirls..." he muttered.

"My Dearest Sherlock,

I haven't seen your gorgeous face in a while. When I say a while, I mean over a century. I'm still waiting for you to accept my dinner invitation, but in 1888..."

Sherlock stared at the letter in disbelief, and read on.

"So, I suppose you're wondering how I got here- not the way you're thinking, my love. 1888 is a brilliant place, so much murder- you'd love it. All the blood, all the dead bodies... Oh, just think of all the fun we can have together! You can investigate the crime scenes in your own time, with no police force or CIA to stop you.

See you soon,

Irene Adler x

Sherlock looked at the note again, his eyes observing every single detail of it, down the dots on i's. "Take me to 1888. I need to speak to Irene."

Sherlock darted to the main street, and straight back down another alleyway. "John. This is a very dangerous place to be- we're out of our own time and straight into another time. It's all very wibbly wobbly." Sherlock looked around the alleyway. "We're also stranded. The Doctor's left us." John rolled his eyes. "Are you kidding me? Sherlock, I know I was getting bored at home too, but we are trapped here, in 1888, WITH A SERIAL KILLER." The alleyway fell eerily silent. Sherlock put his hand over John's mouth. "John, I don't really wish to alarm the residents of Whitechapel about Jack the Ripper. Now, if I heard that somebody knew of a serial killer, I would suspect them as a serial killer, particularly if the first victim hasn't been claimed yet." Sherlock and John walked out of the alleyway and looked at the newspaper stand.

**THE RIPPER STRIKES THREE TIMES:**

**CAN THE POLICE STOP JACK THE RIPPER?**

John crossed his arms and looked at Sherlock smugly. "See? Nobody's going to kill us, everybody knows of Jack the Ripper!" A woman walked past John and gasped at the mention of the name. Sherlock smirked. "Still, not too clever to mention his name though, is it?" John rolled his eyes and was about to make a comeback when suddenly they heard a scream and ran towards the sound.

John walked in on the Doctor and Sherlock. "I thought she was dead..." he was holding a carton of milk in his hand, which was slowly falling out of his hand. Sherlock grabbed the carton of milk from John's hand. "Rule number one: Mycroft lies and I am as unpredictable as the British weather." The Doctor grinned and Sherlock walked towards the fridge to put the milk away. John snapped back into reality and looked The Doctor jumped up and held out his hand towards John. "Pleasure to meet you, John Watson." "Doctor John Watson...and you are?" The Doctor gasped and looked at Sherlock. "Have you not told him about me?" Sherlock took a sip of coffee. "Give him a minute; John, this is the Doctor, Doctor, as you already know, that is John." John froze for a minute. "You really do exist? I thought that Sherlock was just saying a silly childhood tale..." Sherlock looked at John, appalled. "Did you honestly believe that he was a figment of my imagination?! How can you imagine him?!" He pointed at The Doctor, who tilted his head slightly "Yeaaaaaah, you really can't imagine me." There was an awkward silence in the flat, when suddenly Sherlock grinned. "So, Doctor, shall we begin?"

Sherlock ran up the stairs, skipping several at a time. John was cursing behind him, annoyed at how long Sherlock's legs were. "Sherlock, do you think that you could-" he froze at the scene before him. "Oh my god..."

The Doctor ran down the stairs of Baker Street, shouting "Allonsy!" with Sherlock and John following closely behind. "Have I got your attention now?" He winked at John, who was trying to understand his surroundings. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes John, we know, it's smaller on the outside." The Doctor paused for a minute, trying to take in Sherlock's comment. Sherlock snapped his fingers in front of The Doctor. "Do you mind?" He pointed at the Tardis to signal for him to start flying it. "Oh! Right! Yes!" The Doctor pulled various levers, and grabbed the main console, John cursing as he was being thrown about the Tardis. "Not exactly a smooth ride, is it?" The Doctor looked concerned for a minute. "Something's not right...This cannot be..." Sherlock grabbed the Doctor. "What's happened, Doctor? You've left the brakes on again, haven't you." The Doctor shook his head. "No, it's not that. According to the interface, you and John shouldn't be here. The Tardis doesn't like you for some reason." John rolled his eyes and looked at Sherlock "See? This is why you can't have nice things!" Sherlock ignored John's comment and looked back at the Doctor. "Ok then, take us back to Baker Street." The Doctor clicked with his teeth. "That's a little impossible, I'm afraid- the Tardis is determined to dump you in 1888. Hopefully it literally won't 'dump' you, unless you've somehow changed a fixed point in time or really did solve the case of Jack the Ripper!" The Doctor chuckled to himself.

John looked around the crime scene, and started to make deductions. This isn't an ordinary crime scene, John thought, this is an organised murder- a trap for him and Sherlock. John assumed all of this and he hadn't even got to the corpse yet. A woman lay dead in front of him, her womb cut out. She was dead before her womb was cut out; her missing womb was just a mere signature of the murderer- Jack the Ripper. As John went to investigate the corpse, he looked at the wall:

"Are you sure you're not gay?"

John stared at the wall. "Sherlock, come look at thi-Sherlock?" John looked around, starting to panic. He lost his best friend once, he never wanted to re-live that experience. "SHERLOCK!" he cried, when suddenly a boy appeared at the door, dropped a note, then ran off. John picked up the note:

"Vatican cameos moment has gone, I suppose. Ah well. Use your phone, John.

-SH

P.S. In case you didn't understand the phone part, THE TRACKER JOHN, THE TRACKER. Yes, and Irene is Jack the Ripper. Keep up.

John shoved the note in his pocket and pulled out his phone. "How the hell does the tracker work on this thing?! How did Sherlock even have time to send the note?!" A lot of questions were racing through Watson's mind, when suddenly his phone alerted him of Sherlock's location. "Must have been pre-programmed...How on Earth did Sherlock know that I would be lost?" John shrugged the side thoughts away and focused on the main one: Get Sherlock. He followed the map on his phone, and stopped outside the warehouse door. "So, this is how it all begins..."

"Doctor, I thought you said that it was impossible to change a fixed point in time." The Doctor curled his lip and tilted his head. "Welllll... Technically. But look at what I do!" he grinned. "You can change it, but it will happen no matter what. It's just delayed slightly." Sherlock looked at the Doctor and grabbed his shoulders, trying to get a definite answer. "So, you're telling me that I could solve the case of Jack the Ripper, but he can still never be caught?" The Doctor sucked on his teeth. "Pretty much, yeaaaah." Watson threw his arms up in the air in frustration. "Oh great! So we're getting stuck in a time period where there's a serial killer busy killing, and could kill us, but we could solve the case to no effect." "Yes John, that's exactly what The Doctor said." John took a deep breath. "Good, just checking that I got that." All three of them braced for impact as the Tardis was going through the time vortex and through another paradox. "You'd think she'd be used to flying through paradoxes by now!" The Doctor grinned. "You'd think that you'd be used to piloting through paradoxes by now..." John muttered.

"I know that you sent a note to your husband, Sherlock. He's coming any minute now, isn't he?" Sherlock said nothing. "Oh, so he is! Well, that's nice.I have a little surprise for him..." Sherlock looked up at Irene. "You wouldn't dare..." Irene smiled. "No, I wouldn't. But you would." Sherlock tilted his head. "Oh? You expect me to hurt my best friend?" Irene pouted "No no no no, Mr Holmes, I expect you to kill him."

"HOLD ON, WE'RE GOING IN!" The Doctor screamed, and all three of them were blinded by an intense white light...

John looked at the handle on the warehouse. Sherlock never went through this door, the dirt on the handle was undisturbed. There had to be another way in...

Suddenly John heard something fall to the floor. "SHERLOCK!" he shouted, and shoved down the handle of the warehouse and opened the door to find Sherlock on the floor, with a gun in his hand, and another to his head. "I'm so sorry John..." John froze. "Sherlock, no." A gunshot rang through the warehouse.

The Doctor fell to the floor, unaware of his surroundings for a few seconds. He moaned as he pressed a hand to his head and sat up slowly. "Sherlock? John?" He sprung up fully, and ran to the Tardis doors, fully opening them.

He ran back to the Tardis console, and checked the year. "1888, Whitechapel." He laughed in relief. "Damn! I'm good!" He grinned and ran out of the Tardis, pulling out his wibbly wobbly timey wimey detector out of his pocket, and ran towards the warehouse.

John didn't feel anything for a fraction of a second. His world was in slow motion, he saw Sherlock drop the gun and smash the chair he was in, trying to free the rope around his wrists. He heard Irene's laughter and saw her slowly walk away. That was when he felt himself fall to the ground, he didn't know how long the fall was, but due to the time it took him he might as well have been falling off a building. "So... This is how I die. Not with a bang, but with a whimper..." He fell to the ground, his eyes slowly closing. The last sight he saw was Sherlock run towards him, checking his wound that his own best friend had inflicted on him.

Sherlock felt the rage coarse through his veins. He got up and ran towards Irene, and stopped her. "Exactly why did you want me to shoot John?" Irene laughed again. "Oh, my dear Sherlock, you honestly aren't fully aware of the story of Jack the Ripper, are you?" She stopped and turned around, facing him. "A body was found, it was all kept quiet but people suspected that it was Jack the Ripper. They were shot, apparently. Since I changed a fixed point in time, I better fix it, I suppose." Sherlock froze. "But...What did you do with the original Jack the Ripper's body?" Irene shrugged. "It just disappeared. As if Jack the Ripper was a temporal anomaly... and you know what? When Jack the Ripper died, I saw my own face. Like when Luke saw his own face when he defeated the Darth Vader illusion on Dagobah..." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Great. Now you're referencing Star Wars. Brilliant. So, what are you doing now?" Irene sighed. "I don't know, but my mission here is complete. Of course, there were a few hitches, but nevertheless, it was completed." She smiled, making Sherlock get more and more angry. "So, you're just going to leave? Just like that?" Irene nodded. "Pretty much." Sherlock looked at Irene, and then frowned. "Is that your boss over there?" he pointed and Irene turned around. "Nice try Sherl-" Sherlock punched her square in the jaw, deflected her shot back. "Mess with me again, and I will kill you." He flipped the gun in his hand, and walked away.

"SHERLOCK!" The Doctor ran through the warehouse, and his eyes immediately fell on John, who was lying on the floor. "Oh. Sherlock I'm so sorry-" Sherlock rolled his eyes. "No, don't give me that. Help me get John up." The Doctor looked confused. "but...Sherlock, he's dead." Sherlock sighed. "Doctor, I was the one who shot him. I know that he's not dead. I shot him just above the heart, so he is far from dead. I convinced Irene though, so I don't think she'll trouble me ever again." The Doctor was going to say something, but shut his mouth again. "Brilliant, just, !" He helped Sherlock get John up, John cursing as they helped him out. "I don't appreciate getting shot again, Sherlock. I am not a wall." Sherlock grinned. "Shame, I wanted a new target."

Irene looked back at the sight in horror, as she transported back to the Time Agent's headquarters. "I failed..." She cursed, and smiled at the bosses in front of her. "Agent Adler, have you completed your task?" Irene smiled, and brushed her hair away. "Of course. I solved the case of Jack the Ripper, and made sure that it is, and shall always remain, a fixed point in time." The figures in front of her reviewed her case. "Negative, mission failed." Irene turned pale. "W-what? This cannot be..." The lights around her flashed red. "Your sentence is to be entrapped in the event horizon of a collapsing galaxy for 50 mortal years." Irene tried to protest, but her Vortex Manipulator started whirring and she vanished into thin air.

Sherlock froze for a moment. "Doctor, what do you know of time agents?" The Doctor looked away. "I know one. He doesn't remember much, but I know why. They wiped his memory, and he seems alright about it- I mean, it could have been a lot worse..." The Doctor lowered his voice "...He could have been imprisoned in an event horizon for the rest of his life." Sherlock looked at The Doctor. "Something tells me that you can't get letters from an event horizon..." John rolled his eyes, and walked over to Sherlock. "Something tells me that I don't want you to receive a note ever again!"

The Tardis arrived at Baker Street. The Doctor opened the door and looked at both Sherlock and John. "You know, it's been fun! Fancy another trip?" Sherlock grinned, and looked at John. "Err, no." John ran out of the Tardis, his hand over the gunshot wound. "As much as I loved this... 'adventure' this is not going to become a regular habit." Sherlock looked down, and John rolled his eyes. "At least let my wounds heal first!" Sherlock grinned again, and John went into Baker Street. Sherlock stayed back to talk to The Doctor. "You know, you have a good friend there." The Doctor grinned. "Trust me; you'll have a lot of fun. Of course, he may have to go the Doctor's to get his wound treated..." Sherlock smiled and shook his head. "See you next week then?" "Oh, god yes." Sherlock grinned and walked into Baker Street, leaving the Doctor with a smile on his face. "Well, that was elementary..." He grinned and pulled a lever on the Tardis, setting his course for next week.


End file.
